


Music and Merthur

by professortennant



Series: Merthur Music and Fic [1]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Merthur - Freeform, Songfic, canon AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-02
Updated: 2013-02-02
Packaged: 2017-11-27 23:39:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/667792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/professortennant/pseuds/professortennant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of one-shots based on brolininthetardis' Merthur playlist.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Someone Like You

**Author's Note:**

> A compilation of Merlin/Merthur fics based on Stephanie's (brolininthetardis.tumblr.com) Merthur playlist.

I heard that you settled down  
That you found a girl and you're  
married now.

You know how the time flies  
Only yesterday was the time of our lives  
We were born and raised in a summer haze  
Bound by the surprise of our glory days  
I hate to turn up out of the blue, uninvited  
But I couldn't stay away, I couldn't fight it  
I hoped you'd see my face and be reminded  
That for me it isn't over.

The only explanation Merlin could give for his actions was simple: Arthur Pendragon was an addiction. The curve of his smile and the taste of his mouth all settled deep beneath his skin and festered there until all he could feel was Arthur and the zing of magic.

But Arthur was a Pendragon, a king. He had responsibilities and a duty. A duty to marry, to provide a queen for his kingdom and Guinevere suited the role perfectly.

But at a cost.

Arthur had to keep up appearances, be the faithful and obedient husband just as Gwen was. Which meant a distinct lack of Merlin in his life. No more afternoon rides and no more easy banter in the kitchens with food flying and then picking the lettuce and tomato out of each other's hair. 

It had been hard on Merlin to be cut off cold turkey. He had come into Arthur's chambers, eager and willing, his neck stretched taut and his head tilted upwards, waiting for Arthur's mouth to descend upon his pale skin. But his skin remained untouched save for rough hands on his shoulders pushing him away.

Merlin looked on in confusion.

"Arthur?"

Arthur sighed and ran a hand through his hair and across his face, pinching the bridge of his nose. Merlin crossed the room, hand ready to settle comfortingly on Arthur's shoulder. "Arth--"

"I'm marrying Gwen in 3 days."

Merlin's hands dropped to his side, his stomach gone heavy and his chest tight and cold. 

"What?"

Arthur sighed and Merlin watched his shoulders stoop, a gust of air escaping his nostrils.

"It's over, Merlin. We had a good run, a good, long summer. But we knew it was a dream. We were living on borrowed time." Sad, kingly eyes raised slowly to meet astonished, broken ones. "You know who I am, what I am. And what you are. We were bound to end soon."

Merlin was shaking his head, tears welling in his eyes, swallowing hard to keep them at bay. 

"No, Arthur. So you marry Gwen, you give Camelot a queen, that doesn't mean we have to end." He stepped closer, hands desperate and searching, fingers clutching at Arthur's shoulder, trailing down and grasping onto blunt fingers and strong hands. 

"We can keep going. Gwen will understand. I can't give this up--I won't." A choked sob escaped him. Arthur closed his eyes at the sound and swallowed hard before standing up straight, eyes closing off and face going perfectly blank. He pulled his hand away from Merlin's. 

"Arthur. Please." A whispered, broken plea.

Arthur looked on, emotionless. "We're done here."

That was months ago. Just like that, the days of sun warmed skin surrounding his body and sweet kisses were gone. No more grass dusted hair and teasing touches and crickets chirping through the window as Arthur ran a hand through Merlin's hair and teased the short hairs at the nape of his neck, lips pressed to salty skin and a grin melting into wet lips.

Instead, he was forced to stand next to his king as nothing more than a manservant, despondent and obedient. He watched chaste kisses between Arthur and Gwen (and he longed for that mouth on his in an intimate, deep kiss). But he remained distant, separate. Done.

And now...

Merlin swallowed and raised a tentative hand and knocked on the heavy oak door of the King's chambers, entering on the barked out command of, "Come in!"

He entered, feet heavy and stomach flying high with anxiety and nervousness.

Arthur's surprise was tangible in his exclaimed, "Merlin!"

Merlin lifted his chin, "You said we were done."

Arthur's face clouded over and he nodded once, shakily.

"Then send me away, please, sire. Don't make me stay here, don't make me watch you slip away from me forever."

Arthur stood and paced for a moment before turning to face his servant. "You want me to send you away? Permanently?"

Merlin nodded. "Unless..."

Arthur gestured for him to continue. "Unless what?"

"Unless we aren't done."

Arthur looked up sharply. "Merlin....You know we can't. You know why."

Merlin nodded, lips pursed in mock thought. "And yet..I don't know why we can't. I've never been for this. I never wanted to let you go. Let your mind or your heart or your soul or your body go. That wasn't me, that was you Arthur. That was all on you. And I don't wanna live without you anymore."

Merlin rushed forward and pressed a swift, chaste kiss to Arthur's cheek, lips lingering, nuzzling a bit against the rough skin. "Please don't make me live without you anymore. It was never over for me, Arthur. Never. So make up your mind."

He pulled away and raised a hand to gently cup Arthur's face. 

"So decide. Keep me or send me away." With a last look, leaving Arthur standing in front of his desk, slack jawed, Merlin walked out of the door and waited for his king to follow him.

When the oak door didn't open and an armor-clad Arthur didn't call after him, Merlin knew he had his answer.


	2. I Wanna

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur was never very good with words. Luckily, Merlin is pretty good at reading Arthur.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit more graphic than the last. Nothing too explicit, but references to sex and all of its dirty details.

It's like the sun swallowed up by the earth  
Like atomics bombs in reverse  
As if a glass could contain the sea  
That's the way You are in me  
That's the way You are

 

Arthur had never been a man of words. His father was much the same, always action and leading by example rather than doling out orders and commands. 

Besides, words had never seemed adequate enough. Why tell Morgana how much he missed her when he could reach a hand out and plead with his eyes? Why tell his father how angry he was when he could throw a goblet or kick a chair or simply go behind his back and do what he wanted anyway?

So when it came to Merlin he hoped his manservant would read his actions even while he stayed silent.

He hoped Merlin would understand how Merlin got his blood boiling and rolling beneath his skin, like there were too many emotions and feelings for his body to contain--like he was bursting from within, a bomb ready to explode and destroy him from the inside out.

He conveyed this feeling, this explosion of passion, in hurried, desperate kisses. In a mouth sucking hard at pale skin, a tongue, soft and warm, licking and tasting the salt from his neck. Hoped Merlin could understand the plea of 'stay' when his fingers grabbed onto thin, bony hips. 

Arthur hoped Merlin understood the declaration of loyalty in the slow grind of his hips and the reverent loyalty in the arch of his back.

Merlin was always too much for Arthur, always deep beneath his skin and simmering in the back of his mind. Always, always, always.

But Merlin just took it all, went limp and pliant and let Arthur mark his skin and body as Arthur's. 

Arthur needed more, needed reciprocation and understanding. Did his passiveness mean he accepted? That he got what Arthur was saying?

So he kissed harder and let his tongue sweep into a warm, wet mouth. He bit down on the flesh of his ear and nuzzled under the skin of his jaw. He pressed Merlin's body against the cold stone wall, frenzied and pleading and he felt like crawling out of his skin. 

He managed to gasp out a, "Merlin..." before sneaking a hand around his servant's back and slipping under the rough cotton of his tunic, skin hot and firm and his. 

Arthur growled low in his throat and pushed into Merlin more, rutting against Merlin's thigh and grunting with the effort.

Merlin sighed and ran a hand through Arthur's hair, damp with sweat and sticking up as a result of their actions. 

Arthur groaned out another broken plea, the only word and name that mattered, "Merlin..."

Over and over, with each thrust and nip and kiss, one word: Merlin.

He grew louder and more frenzied. Merlin had to know, had to understand how much Arthur, how much he--

"Merlin, please."

Merlin leaned forward and pressed his forehead to Arthur's, forcing Arthur to slow and settle the pace.

Then, finally, Merlin spoke, "I know, Arthur. I know. And," he paused to press a kiss to Arthur's temple, "I know. I've always known."

Arthur came with a shout of relief, Merlin's words and understanding couples with the fast and slow friction of their bodies, then sagged against Merlin's form, panting hard and pleased.

Arthur was never good with words, he preferred actions.

Luckily, Merlin always could read him--words or no.


	3. Our Love Is the Perfect Crime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Modern!AU and Crime!AU. Arthur is a detective inspector and Merlin is the thief he's trying desperately to catch. Well, maybe not that desperately judging by the way he keeps kissing his suspect up against any wall he sees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lotsa kissing in this one and it's a bit longer. You can find more updates and the like on my Tumblr (professortennant.tumblr.com) Enjoy!

Our love's the perfect crime.

 

Detective Inspector Arthur Pendragon growled low in the back of his throat, frustrated. With the tip of his pen, he pushed the broken shards of glass around on the floor, inspecting the sharp edges. Sonic explosion, clean and precise, just like every other robbery.

"Detective Inspector! You need to see this!"

Arthur rose quickly and went to see what his sergeant had found, but he was fairly certain what he'd find waiting for him. The sergeant, eyes wide and lips twitching with amusement, gestured to the wall.

There, behind the shop counter, was a message just for Arthur: You be the cat, I'll be the mouse. Come find me.

Arthur scowled and willed his stomach to stop filling with butterflies. The sergeant next to him, Will something or other, spoke, "I think he likes you, Inspector."

Arthur glared and whirled around, barking out orders for his men to clean up this crime scene and collect as much evidence as possible--fingerprints, footprints, the works. 

He needed a moment to cool down, to stop thinking about the dashing Irish thief that he'd been chasing for the past year. Always a robbery, always victimless, and always with a message for Arthur--usually suggestive in some manner. And damn it all if Arthur didn't want to give in a just a little bit, get a taste of the dark life and sink into the pale body of the robber known as the Young Warlock (so dubbed by the tabloids for his seemingly magical entrances and exits of high end jewelry shops).

Arthur was a man of honor and his word--true to police procedure and the line between authority and criminal was never blurred. Until Merlin, the Young Warlock. 

He scowled and kicked at the ground, willing his thoughts to turn away from the stupid Irish boy with his stupid eyes and cheeky mug shot and no regard for personal space and his stupid adorable hands with his shy look from under hooded eyes and--

A tap on his shoulder shook him out of his thoughts. When he turned he was presented with a small velvet box. "For you, sir."

Arthur eyed the box and took it with gloved hands and dismissed the officer. He carefully opened it and smiled before scowling. Inside sat a beautiful set of silver cufflinks in the shape of daggers and there was a small note:

I miss you terribly. You've been slacking, we haven't been alone in an interrogation room for months. Come to the place where it all started. -M

 

He snapped the box closed and handed it off to the nearest officer, "Bag it and process it. ASAP." And if the note was missing from the box and resting quite happily in his jacket pocket, well, no one was the wiser.

Later that Night

Arthur took a long drag from his cigarette, the smoke a pleasant burn in his lungs and around his eyes on the exhale. The alley was dark and the stones were rough and Merlin was late.

As usual.

"Oh, stop your grumbling, Arthur, we wizards are never late. We arrive precisely when we mean to."

Arthur whirled around at the Irish lilted voice and raised an eyebrow. "Lord of the Rings, really, Merlin?"

The young man shrugged and strode up to Arthur, all sinewy movements and lithe motions. Arthur gulped and reached behind him for his cuffs, ready to get down to business.

Merlin sighed, "Tsk tsk, Inspector. Always so serious." He shot Arthur a saucy grin, "Unless we'll be doing something a bit more recreational with those..."

At this point he was so close to Arthur they were sharing body heat, their breath hot and mingling. Merlin's eyes closed and inhaled, "You shouldn't smoke, Inspector, it's bad for your health."

Arthur watched the criminal with careful eyes, his hand somehow finding itself resting heavily on Merlin's waist. "You're bad for me."

Merlin grinned. "And yet you came..."

His lips brushed against Arthur's, chaste and brief, almost an accident.

Arthur gulped and stammered (fucking stammered, he was a DI, he should have been cool and calm, collected), "I came to arrest you."

Merlin stepped away and held his hands out, wrists pressed together. "Then arrest me."

Arthur growled and strode forward quickly, body pushing Merlin against the alley wall, hands and arms coming up on either side of Young Warlock's head, trapping him between the wall and Arthur's body.

"Fuck, what do you do to me?"

Arthur's head dropped and he nuzzled against Merlin's skin, nose pressing into the hollow of his neck, lips ghosting tenderly over soft skin. Merlin keened and tilted his head back, "More."

Arthur shook his head so that his blonde hair brushed against Merlin's nose, teasing. "No. I can't--I just need enough. Enough until..."

Merlin exhaled and moved his hands down Arthur's side, gentle, a caress. "I know. Take what you need."

So Arthur did--tongue and teeth and lips sipping at pale skin, marking and possessing. His hands burned a brand into Merlin's hip and back and neck. His hips rolled and pressed and pushed.

And Merlin gave all he had, leg coming up to half-wrap around Arthur's hip, arching up and offering himself up. His fingernails dragged through Arthur's hair, scratching at the scalp and moaning out encouragements, "Yes, more, please, God...fuck."

They carried on like that, teetering on the precipice of pleasure, pulling and pushing and opening for one another until the bright flash of a headlight illuminated them.

Both were breathing heavily, panting and out of breath. Arthur swallowed hard, looking away, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Go." His voice was low, gravelly and broken.

Merlin's mouth was parted, "What? Arthur, the game's not over."

Arthur snarled and pressed back into Merlin. "You got sloppy, idiot. You left me a box, you left fingerprints. They--we--are gonna find you." He sighed, pushing away. "Just go."

Melin smiled and pressed a chaste kiss to the corner of Arthur's mouth, speaking softly, "Maybe I wanted to get caught."

Before Arthur could think of a reply, the Young Warlock disappeared into the night, blending in like the master thief he was.

Arthur smiled to himself before calling out, hating himself a little bit more for doing so, "Good night, Mouse!"

A laugh sounded in the distance, "Come and get me, Cat!"

Arthur turned around and got back into his car. The day would come when their game would end, but for now, he was content. Even if all they had were stolen moments in interrogation rooms and back alleyways.


End file.
